


Sweet Angel, Fear Us Not

by Sethrine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Original Character Death(s), Parent Death, Past Character Death, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-01-18 17:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1436302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sethrine/pseuds/Sethrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary had a little lamb; her fleece was white as snow.</p>
<p>But of the dangers in this world, Mary's lamb did not know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mary's Sweet Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we go again.
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Supernatural or any of its affiliates.

_"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb; Mary had a little lamb, her fleece was white as snow."_

She was a beautiful woman, your mother. In your eyes, there was no one who could compare. 

She had such lovely long hair, sometimes halfway pinned back, sometimes high on her head in a mussed up bun as she went about the house cleaning, but always donning her favorite hair pin. Her eyes were always so kind and so loving when they fell on you, and her voice was able to carry the sweetest melody of your favorite lullabies. 

There were days she would take you to the marketplace and let you pick out your favorite fruits and veggies that you could snack on almost anytime you wanted. There were even more days that you were brought to work with her, your wide eyes watching as she arranged the prettiest flowers into beautiful bouquets. 

Every Saturday morning, she made waffles for breakfast, sometimes with blueberries, sometimes with chocolate chips. She would play fun games of pretend with you and even braid your hair just like you liked. There was always a box of crayons for you to color with as she vacuumed or did dishes. When it came time for laundry, you would always join in the folding process, even if you weren't very good at it. 

Then, on days when the sun was out and the day was extra pretty, she would invite that one family just down the road who had a little boy your age -and one on the way- over for dinner. His name was Dean, and he liked to play tag with you and would pretend to be a monster while you ran around and threw small yard flowers at his feet. Sometimes, you would be the monster while he was the one doing the chasing. He always had good ideas for games, too, and you were more than happy to play along. 

When the day ended and everyone had gone home, your mother would fill the tub for a bubble bath to wash away the dirt and grass stains from your skin before dressing you in your pajamas. As she tucked you in, you would pick which lullaby you wanted her to sing, and before she could finish, you would be fast asleep. 

You were very young then, but you could remember the way your mother used to be as clearly as if her past self stood before you now. In your eyes, she was everything you could ever ask for in a parent, and in hers, you were her everything.


	2. Forgive Me, Sweet Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for clarification purposes, the first handful of chapters are going to be shifting back and forth from past to present. I'm the one writing these, and even I'm getting confused sometimes at the order. Guess it's a good thing I started labeling them with numbers....
> 
> As always, hope you guys enjoy!

_"And everywhere that Mary went, Mary went, Mary went; Everwhere that Mary went, her lamb would always go."_

"They're coming! Oh, how close they are! The Widow's fate is upon her yet! And the Lambs shall return, and all will be well." 

"Mom, please, just...just sit down, okay? No one's coming to get you, no animals are anywhere in sight, so let's sit here for a bit and rest, yeah?" 

You pulled your mother towards her favorite rocking chair and sat her down carefully, pulling a thin blanket over her trembling form as she began to mutter quietly to herself. You had hoped her stay in the hospital would be a productive one. Unfortunately, her condition was only getting worse. 

Members of the staff had informed you that she still continued to mumble under her breath constantly, sometimes in Latin, a language you had no idea your mother even knew. It seemed group therapy was a no-go, because she would scream and shout at some of the other members, proclaiming them to be "demons" or something along those lines. Perhaps most worrying of all was the drawings of strange symbols along the walls of her room, ones she had done herself with the proclamation that they would protect her from the evils that roamed the halls. You had thought she grew out of this habit since being here; instead, the drawings had only progressed into bigger, more elaborate symbols. 

She had lost her mind, so everyone kept telling you, but it was always hard to see the evidence of such an act on the people you cared for. You loved her dearly, and you wished you could help her more, perhaps even get her out of the hospital and care for her yourself. With the kind of job you worked, however, you couldn't keep her with you in the shop, and you couldn't leave her alone at home, too concerned that she would hurt herself again. Here, she was monitored, and you didn't have to fear any injuries. 

"Oh, forgive me, my sweet angel," your mother began suddenly, her tired, though bright, eyes finding your own as a smile graced her lips. "I know you worry for me, but there's no need. All that I do is for you, sweetheart! I am your mother, after all, and I will do what I can to save you." 

You gave your mother a strange look; she had never talked like that before, had not addressed you so personally in what felt like months. She made it sound as if everything she did was a necessary act. She had made claims before that she was not insane; those around her had thought differently. You weren't completely sure what to believe. 

"Whatever could you be saving me from in here when I'm not around?" 

Her smile only widened as she reached out and pressed her palm to your cheek lovingly. 

"The Lambs of Mary shall return, and the Widow's Sacrifice will save all involved, and her work will be done. They will protect her sweet angel from the darkness and will fight against the monsters' intent on corruption." 

"Mom, please...what are you talking about?" 

Her hand lingered on your face a moment longer before she pulled away completely, her lips moving quickly and her voice remaining hushed as she looked off to the side. She had receded back to muttering again, and it didn't seem likely that you would be able to pull her out of it anytime soon. 

You gave a soft, almost sad smile. Sometimes, you wished things were just like they used to be when you were younger. She was your mother, all the same, and you would be there for her just as she had always been there for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and the lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	3. Mary's Little Lambs

"Did you know that your mom and my Mommy both have the same names?" 

Dean looked at you with a child's sense of skepticism. He didn't believe you, and it was obvious. 

"No they don't! My mom's name is Mary." 

"So is Mommy's name! Her name is Mary, too!" 

Now he looked really confused by what you were telling him. 

"But, if her name is Mary, why does my mom and Dad call her May?" 

It was then that your mother came in the room, wiping her hands on a clean hand towel and giving both of you a sweet smile. 

"Well, your parents call me May so your mom and I won't get confused when we're being talked to. It's confusing if someone says, _"Hey, Mary!"_ and we both reply. But if someone calls for May, then I know that person is talking to me." 

"Oh! I get it!" Dean called out as he smiled up at your mother. His smile dropped almost as quickly as he hesitantly asked, "Is my mom okay? And my brother?" 

May's smile never wavered as she answered, "Of course they are, dear. I talked to your dad just a few minutes ago, and he said everything is just fine. Your mom's resting for now, but she promised she would call before bedtime." 

This made Dean smile again, and in turn, you gave your own smile. You had been scared for Mary and the baby when Mr. John had taken them to the hospital early that morning, but knowing they were alright made you happy for them. You were excited to see the baby, perhaps just as much as Dean was. 

Dinner came and went in a flash, then bathtime followed. When both you and Dean were setting up your sleeping bags in the livingroom fort you had made earlier that evening, May called Dean into the kitchen and handed him the reciever to the wall phone. His face instantly lit up at the sound of his mother's voice, so much so that he looked to you and flashed a bright grin you were quick to send back. 

Two days later, you would have the honor of watching the now complete family of Winchesters walk out your front door to their home. You would have your chance to coo and cuddle the new member while Dean held his brother and Mary watched over them, carefully instructing her older boy how to hold the newborn for a picture or how to hold the bottle just so. And you would also get the chance to see the sweet, loving smile of another mother watching over her two sons just as your mother watched over you. 

_"Mary had two little lambs, two little lambs, two little lambs; Mary had two little lambs, and Mary loved them so."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	4. Protecting Her Young

Today was one of your mother's good days, of which you were thankful for. She was completely coherent and compliant with everything the nurses asked of her, and because of this, she was able to roam certain places she normally wasn't allowed. 

As it was, you were sitting outside with her under one of the lovely oak trees in the facility's garden area, talking about things you normally didn't get the chance to say to her as she listened contentedly. The area was quiet, the sun peeping through fluffy clouds to warm the somewhat cool air. Today was definitely a good day. 

"(Y/N), my sweet angel, I want you to have something." 

You leaned in closer to your mother as she reached for her hair and pulled out her lovely flower hairpin. Even after all these years, she continued to wear that gem dusted pin every day, no matter how she styled it in the mornings. For her to be taking it out and presenting it to you, well, it was what you had dreamed of as a little girl and feared as you got older. 

"Why?" you asked, finding her serene smile more unsettling than it was meant to be. 

"About four months before you were born, your father gave me this hairpin. He made me promise to wear it every day until he returned, and I never broke that promise. Even after I knew he was long gone, I still wore it, because it made me feel closer to him. It made me feel safe to know that even in death, he was watching over me." 

She leaned forward and reached for your hair, positioning it just so before adding the pin just to the side. Its weight was light and heavy against your head all at once, and it made your stomach churn in both delight and unease. 

"Are you planning on leaving me anytime soon?" 

Your voice was playful, though you could tell your mother knew of your inner turmoil. She was your mother, after all. 

"No, I'll never leave you, (Y/N). So long as you promise to wear this hairpin every day, I'll always be with you, even when my mind is not with me. Can you do that for me, my sweet angel?" 

You smiled despite yourself, taking hold of your mother's thin hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

"Of course, always. I promise." 

_"Mary, oh, what have you done? Your sacrifice, so great, will save your lamb from Death's design, but closer to your fate."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely kudos and comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	5. Disappear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait! Been quite busy reaquainting myself with my passion for writing through roleplaying. Haven't done it in a couple years, and I got so into it...
> 
> Anyways, enough excuses, here's the next chapter. As always, I hope you guys enjoy!

_"Dear Mary had to go away, go away, go away; Dear Mary had to go away, t'was only fate's design."_

Of all the days you remembered as a small child, one night stood out amongst the rest. It was the night that the Winchester home burned to the ground. 

That night, it was as if everything in your life changed for the worse. 

You remember clearly the sirens of police cars and firetrucks as they made their way down the street. They had woken you from sleep, and when you went to find your mother, she was already awake and pulling on her shoes. 

"Go back to bed, angel, I'm just going outside for a moment to see what's going on," she had told you with a comforting smile, ushering you back to your room and tucking you back into bed. When she left and you heard the click of the front door closing, you shot up from your bed and went to the window, struggling momentarily to pull open the latch and lift the glass pane high enough for you to stick your head out. 

The fire was easy enough to see in the darkness, as was the small collection of people moving toward the flame. Your mother stood in the yard, as still as a statue while she watched the commotion. After a moment, she turned to come back in the house, and even at your young age, you could tell she was upset. 

"(Y/N), come here, sweetheart, we have to go outside." 

You hesitated only a moment before running into the livingroom and right into your mother's waiting arms. She carried you outside toward the fire, a house that was all too familiar and covered in flames. Your wide eyes took in the burning building and the firemen quickly trying to put it out, the crowd of people gathered around in concern for the family that had once been inside, and of the weeping man crouched in his lawn, holding both his sons close. You knew that small family, and it was missing a member. 

"M-mommy," you whispered, "where's Miss Mary?" 

Your mother looked down at you and shook her head quickly, her eyes wet from unshed tears. Instead of answering, she moved to John's side and pulled him into an embrace, one arm wrapping around his shoulders as the other pulled you, Dean, and Sam into the circle of both love and despair. 

Three days later, the Winchester family disappeared altogether, and it was the last you thought you would ever see of them. 

_"The Lambs of Mary were gone that day, gone that day, gone that day; The Lambs of Mary were gone that day, to leave the past behind."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	6. Like Back From Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been awhile since my last update. I promise this is still an on-going thing! I nust haven't had the time to get anything out.
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!

"Can I help you guys with something?" 

The two men who had walked into your little flower boutique were dressed quite nicely. Unfortunately, it wasn't the kind of dressed-up you had seen of nervous boyfriends hiding elegant engagement rings in their coat pockets that had come through time and again for a lovely floral arrangement. It seemed they were here on business, but you weren't sure what business they could possibly want with you. 

The taller man approached first, his eyes steady on yours and his expression sincere. 

"Yes, hi. We're looking for the owner of this establishment, a Miss May Lentwood? We have a few questions we'd like to ask her about some events that happened in her hometown." 

"Oh? And who exactly are the both of you, again?" 

Almost as if it were a last second thought, the tall one pulled out what appeared to be his credentials, giving his name as well as his partner's. You had to admit, it was all rather believable. 

"Ah, I see," you began while placing the last few flowers in your hands into an arrangement, "a couple of feds, hm? Well, in that case, you should already know that May hasn't owned or worked in this shop for over five years. You should also have on file that even though she never married, May hasn't gone by her maiden name since before her daughter's birth. Now, if I were you two, I'd get your facts straightened out and try again when you're ready to give me truth instead of make-believe." 

The tall man kept his composure rather well and tried once again to assert himself as a federal agent of some sort; you knew better than that. Some people were good at their stories, and this one was easy enough to pull off, but in this instance, it wasn't too difficult to see the lies from the truth. 

"Are you (Y/N)? Mary's daughter?" 

The shorter man approached you then from behind his partner, his eyes steady and holding strong to your now locked gaze. You could feel yourself tense, your shoulders locking in place uncomfortably and your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. You knew neither one of them were any sort of federal agents, no matter how well put together their badges had been, so how...how did he...? 

"No one's called her Mary in years. Not since-" 

"May had a friend, way back when, that had the same first name, Mary. I only know this because _you_ told me." 

You stared at the man for a long moment, your mind reeling at the information presented to you. Everyone who knew your mother had always known her as May. You had never told anyone your mother's true name because most never assumed her name to be anything else than what she told them; it was never a topic that came up. You could remember talking to a boy in your younger years about her first name because it was something you had in common with him - two mothers with the same name. But he had moved off with his dad and baby brother after their tragic loss, and you never thought that you'd see that little family of three ever again. 

That was so long ago. He couldn't possibly be...could he? 

"Dean? Dean Winchester?" 

His lips curled up slowly in a fond sort of smile, one with just a hint of sass to it that almost transformed the motion into a smirk. 

"It's been awhile, hasn't it? Gotta say, the years did you good. Like, real good. You remember Sammy, don't y- oof!" 

Surprised was an understatement to what you were feeling right now. You had never expected to see that boy from your childhood ever again, yet here he was, with his younger, much taller brother by his side, no less! Your arms found their way around Dean like they were meant to be there in a never-ending embrace. Through your perpetual shock, you could feel his arms encircling your waist, his hands firm and warm against your back. 

"I...can't believe it. It's like you're back from the dead." 

Later, much later, you would find the irony in your statement at the time to be almost comical. For now, though, you had your dear friends back in your life, by whatever graces above. There was a lot to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	7. Occupation, Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action will be coming soon, don't you worry. The build-up was much longer than I anticipated, but the positive reactions to the story are even more surprising! Thank you all for giving this number a shot! Many surprises are coming, so stick around for the updates to see where this story may lead!

_"Mary had a little lamb...little lamb...fleece as pure as snow."_

Your mother had grown quiet over the past few years, and it was a little unsettling to your teenage self. 

Most times you saw her, she was moving about the house checking that the latches on windows and doors were shut tight. She would then put lines of salt along their bottom edges, though you thought that had something to do with keeping slugs and other insects from coming in. Sometimes, you caught her drawing weird shapes and symbols on the walls before covering them up with framed pictures to hide them from view. 

When she was resting, she was reading from her dark maroon bible, a gift from one of their neighbors from back home. It was a strange sight, but one you associated with as a good one. 

Before moving, your mother had never been the extremely religious type. She would always conduct good behavior, always telling the truth, helping your fellow neighbors in their time of need and the like, but you had never been to a church service with her. You still never went to church, but she always had her nose in her bible, highlighting things, jotting down notes in a small black booklet she kept on her bedside table. 

"Mama, why are you always reading from that?" you asked one night after dinner, finding she had immediately gone back to her bible after you had finished with the dishes. 

"It's something your father used to do," she answered simply. "He would always break down the stories to better understand them. He did this to many fables and ghost stories, too." 

"Oh. But why did he do it?" 

"It was part of his job." 

The conversation had ended just as quickly as it had begun, and you knew not to push the subject. 

You didn't know much about your father. One thing that became abundantly clear over the years, however, was that when his work was brought into conversation, your mother would shut down and refuse to talk any further on the matter. She had always kept you in the dark on that one subject, and it frustrated you. Whatever his occupation, it had been dangerous, and that's all you would possibly ever know. 

If only you could ask him yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and such lovely comments! If you liked this story so far, why not check out my others?
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	8. Evil In The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, what! Look at me, being productive!
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!

_"Mary...can you feel it? It's almost time to go..."_  


"She's been in the institute for years, of her own accord," you began with a sigh as you looked down at your twiddling hands, Sam's and Dean's intense gazes intimidating you only slightly. "It was either that, or move to another town, another state. We had already done that twice; she didn't want me to go through all that again, so she...improvised." 

You looked to Dean then, his gaze easily holding your own. 

"Nothing was the same after...after you both left. Mom started becoming more reserved and secretive, and I thought for a long time that she just couldn't handle the loss of other people so close to her." 

"Why did she admit herself into an institute later on in life?" Sam cut in at your own pause, effectively diverting the conversation from a somewhat touchy subject. "I mean, you said she had some...problems for some time, so why wait so long if she was aware of them?" 

"I honestly don't know. I don't even think of her as ill, to be honest. I'm not exactly sure how to classify it, myself, but most of the time it's like she's extremely paranoid, not schizophrenic, as the doctors diagnosed her. She used to be so cautious, back before she started talking to herself and shouting nonsense at the most random times." 

"What do you mean by _cautious?_ " Dean chimed in curiously. 

"Well, after we moved the first time, she started checking and rechecking the locks on all the doors and windows at all hours of the day and night. I think she thought someone was after us. She always worried about me when I went to school or out with friends, even made me carry this charm she made. It always reminded me of the weird symbols she would draw on the walls and floors." 

"Symbols?" 

You watched as both Sam and Dean shared a knowing glance before looking back to you. This made you worry somewhat. 

"Do you remember what any of the symbols looked like?" 

"Are you kidding? I can practically draw them in my sleep." 

You excused yourself for a moment to retrieve a piece of paper and a marker. You then returned and began drawing what looked like a star in the middle of a sun. 

"This is the one she made me wear on a necklace chain whenever I went out." 

"It's an anti-possession sigil," Sam murmured quietly as he looked to his brother, Dean looking to you. You weren't sure why, but his eyes shown such intensity, his stance a bit more tense than before. The severity of such a look quickly had you frightened. 

"Do you still wear it?" 

"N-no, she took it back about two years later, said I wouldn't need it anymore. What's going on? She's not in trouble, is she?" 

The brothers shared yet another look, though this one was more of hesitance. 

"Listen, some things happened in our home town, some bad things to good people, and we think Mary may know what's going on and how we can stop it," Sam stated, finally cutting to the chase about what they really needed, why they had shown up in the first place. 

"But we haven't been there since we moved away. And even if I were able to, Mom doesn't have access to a car or internet or even a radio! How would she know what's going on or what you want to know?" 

Dean reached out suddenly and took hold of your hand, the contact grounding you from your momentary panic. 

"I know this all sounds crazy and sudden, but you have to trust us. Just give us five minutes to talk to her; it's all we'll need, and then you can forget about this whole business, and we'll be on our merry way." 

You gave a hesitant frown. "How is she going to know what's going on? I don't even know what's going on. Suddenly, you're here, and then you guys are asking me all these questions...shouldn't the police be involved?" 

"The police can't do what we can. She'll know, just trust us. Trust _me_. There's a whole lot of evil in this world, and what we're after right now? It isn't gonna be pretty if we can't get the information we need, and May might be the only one who can help." 

You weighed your options for a moment. If what they said was true, then your mother might be able to help people in some way. If she didn't understand or claimed she didn't know anything, then at least you were able to see her this week. You just hoped this didn't turn into something bad. 

"You won't be able to see her without me," you began as you pulled away and moved to grab your keys, the Winchester brothers following close behind with anxious smiles, "and don't be surprised if she doesn't answer right away. Sometimes it takes a while to get her actually talking to you. She'll be surprised to see you both." 

_"Mary, your soul is ours to take, you promised us, you know...."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	9. Good Golly, Miss Margie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo for an update! Next chapter marks the start of intensity...be looking for the next update!
> 
> As always, I hope you guys enjoy!

_"Mary...oh, Mary...that lamb of yours?"_

Margie was an unusual name for someone who claimed to be sensitive to paranormal activity, but she was a friend of your mother, and it was ingrained in your nature to be polite to those you were meeting for the first time. Already, you could tell this meeting would be an interesting one just by the few facts you could visually gather as your mother's friend ushered you both into her home. 

She was a quirky woman with corkskrew curls and an accent that followed her from the deep south. Her lips were painted such a vibrant shade of ruby red, and her home decor was a mix of rustic country and odd artifacts she had found from her travels over the years. If you didn't already know she was a friend of the family, you would have never thought your mother to be associated with someone so...lively and strange. 

"Well, what a pleasant surprise this is! I haven't seen you around in years, May! What brings y'all out to my little ol' place?" 

"I wanted you to finally meet my daughter," May said with a smile, ushering you forward a step as a way of presenting you to the woman. "(Y/N), this is Margie Willows. She's a good friend of mine, someone I came to know soon after I met your father." 

"Hello," you greeted with a shy smile that quickly turned into a look of surprise as Margie pulled you in for a tight hug. 

"Good golly, Miss Molly, she sure has gotten big from the last photo I saw! Just as cute as a button, too! Oh, I bet Frank would have loved her, if he weren't six feet under with that hussy of a woman he went up in flames with...she tries to haunt me, you know, all moanin' about how I ruined their relationship. I say God did right by strikin' those two down. Oh, listen to me, ramblin' on." 

When Margie finally pulled away, she had the biggest smile on her face, almost as if she had won some big prize. You stared at her in wonder, genuinely caught off-guard by her natural joy of the world. Were some people really like that? 

"How about I get you two somethin' to drink? I just made some berry iced tea not but a few minutes ago. Does that sound good, sweetie?" 

"I don't...I've never had berry iced tea before," you answered, and the look of shock that crossed the woman's face was worthy of an award. 

"Oh, honey, we need to get you a glass! You'll just love it, I guarantee. I even got some cookies I made the other day, with pecans straight from Texas. They're just sittin' around, waiting to be gobbled up, since Lester decided to finally pass on. He used to live down the street, you know, nice fella. I think that whiskey was what finally did him in about three years ago, it's hard to remember...anywho, I'll go get that tea." 

You watched as Margie and your mother, who insisted on helping, made their way to the kitchen, their voices but a murmur from the distance to the living room. Despite being by yourself for the moment, you weren't as uncomfortable as you thought your thirteen-year-old self should have been in an unfamiliar house. It actually sort of felt like home, warm and inviting. 

You took this time to think about the strange and interesting woman whose home had easily grown on you. Margie was different from other people you had met, so lively and ready to tell a story at any instance in the conversation. She seemed like a genuinely good woman, both inside and out. 

You liked her. 

"Alright, darlin', I got you a nice big glass of tea! And I didn't know what kind of cookie you liked, so I just brought the whole plate." 

You didn't know it now, but this woman would soon become your mother away from home. 

_"She'll follow...she'll follow...wherever you go."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all the kudos and such lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	10. Quite Contrary

_"Oh Mary...your lambs are here. Your time is nearly through...oh Mary...MARY!"_

"Mom?" you questioned lightly as you entered her room, seeing your mother in her rocking chair moving ever so slowly back and forth, back and forth. She looked to be deep in thought, or perhaps trapped in her mind as she so often was, though the mumbling was not present this time. 

You moved closer, careful to avoid the dark drawings littering the floor. It seemed she had made a few more along the walls, as well, possibly sometime that morning. It was a wonder the staff hadn't moved her to a new room to paint over them. She redrew them over the fresh paint, anyhow, so they must have finally given up. 

The brothers were just behind you, following your light footfalls and stepping just as you stepped. They seemed to be both in awe of the symbols, but also knowledgable in exactly what they were. You would have to ask them exactly what they were later on. 

"Mom," you tried again, kneeling down beside May and placing your hand over top of her own at her knee. Her rocking stopped, and her eyes moved to the touch of your skin against hers. 

"Hey, Mom, it's me. I missed you. I, uh, I hope you don't mind, but I brought some friends with me. They want to ask you a couple of questions." 

She looked up from your touch and met your gaze briefly before looking over your shoulder at the Winchester brothers. As if her senses had been knocked back into her at the sight of them, May stood abruptly with you following close behind, her eyes wide as she took in both Sam and Dean. 

"Mary's Lambs," she said in a hushed tone, "I thought I had more time." 

She moved forward abruptly and took hold of one of Dean's hands. You could see the eldest Winchester stiffen considerably as May looked up at him with a warm smile. 

"Dean, oh, how much you've grown! Mary would be so proud to see you, now. And Sam!" 

She reached for Sam's hand this time, and he seemed just as surprised as everyone else in the room. 

"My, you're so tall! I remember holding you as a baby; you were so tiny then." 

"It's, ah, unfortunate I don't remember anything," Sam gave as an addition to May's comments, looking to you questioningly for some sort of help. 

"No worries, dear. All is well now," she said as she pulled away, her serene smile still in place. "The Lambs of Mary have finally returned to us, and the Widow's work is nearly done. You have questions, yes?" 

Before either of the brothers could answer, your cell began vibrating in your pocket, its tune drumming heavily in the air. You pulled it from your pocket and excused yourself, gently touching your mother's shoulder and giving both Sam and Dean a stern look before leaving the room. 

"Hello?" 

_"Hello there, sugarpie!"_ was sung almost cheerfully through the speaker, the southern accent familar and bringing a smile to your face. 

"Margie? I haven't heard from you in a while! How've you been?" 

_"Oh, just as good as ever! I've been dealin' with a no-good scoundrel of a ghost who was keen on rearrangin' my kitchen. I couldn't find any of my appliances in their proper place for weeks! But enough about that, darlin', I was hopin' I'd get ahold of you. I ain't interruptin' anything too important, now am I?"_

"Oh, uh, no! I was just visiting Mom with some friends." 

_"Oh dear, I'm afraid that's what I need to talk to you about. But not over the phone, I'm afraid. Can you come on over after your visit? It's very important that I explain this to you in person."_

"Of course. We shouldn't be too much longer. I'll head right over from here." 

"Wonderful! I've got to get a few things fixed up, then. I'll see you in a bit. Oh, and one more thing? Bring your friends with you; they'll wanna hear what I have to say." 

The line went dead immediately after Margie's last request, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at your phone. When you were able to snap out of your trance, you peeked back into the room to see Sam and Dean holding a decent conversation with your very aware mother. 

Just what the hell was going on? It felt like everyone was keeping important things from you, and it felt like May was in the very middle of a web of secrets with each thread connecting back to her in some way. And did Margie happen to know who Sam and Dean were? If that was the case, then how did she know they were with you? 

Everything was just too confusing right now. You just wanted some answers; was that too much to ask?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and such lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


	11. Needed Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are lovely! Thank you so much for being patient with my sporadic updating; you have no idea how much I appreciate it.

"What's going on, Margie?" 

You couldn't help it; on the ride to her place, you had gotten yourself worked up over everything that had happened in the past few hours. The Winchesters had appeared out of nowhere after years of no contact whatsoever and were in need of questioning your mother, who talked to them with so much clarity, it was hard to believe she was even in an institute in the first place. And then Margie called and suddenly seemed not only to know the brothers, but also invited them into the important conversation of which she needed you in person to proceed with. 

You were clearly left out of the loop, and the longer the day went on, the more it seemed it was intended. You were having no more of it. 

"Oh, pumpkin', don't be like that. At least have a seat. How about a drink? Boys, anythin' for you?" 

"Margie, please, I just...no drinks, no distractions. I need answers. From all of you." 

You turned your gaze from the older woman to first Sam, then Dean, holding his gaze for a good moment. 

"What the hell is going on?" 

There was a long silence that followed, the brothers looking to each other before looking to Margie as if she would be the ultimate decider in what would be said. You followed their gazed and watched a sigh leave the southerner's red painted lips. There was a slight nod of her head, a confirmation of sorts, and all eyes were suddenly on you. 

"Your friends here are what their group call Hunters," Margie began slowly, allowing you to process everything. "Hunters are people brave enough to face the mostly hidden horrors of the world and find ways to...get rid of them. It's almost like what I do, except their not as attuned to those that have passed on, and their specialties don't end at the paranormal level." 

"We hunt down things," Dean cut in, "like witches, vampires, all that crap you ever thought was just a child's nightmare waiting to happen. It's all real, and we make it our job to hunt them down." 

You looked to Sam as if needing his input on the subject, though the thin line of his lips said all you needed to know. If this was a joke, it was a good one, cruel and over twenty years in the making. 

"So you guys...what, go out and find these things to kill them?" 

"Our main concern is helping the people who are in danger of becoming the next target," Sam supplied. "If we're quick enough, we can stop the attack before it happens and prevent it from happening again, by any means we know of." 

"I've worked with them, twice before," Margie added, "to help find some vengeful spirits that were terrorizin' people. It is my area of expertice, so it was only natural for me to help in any way I could." 

You felt like laughing. Really, you did. It all sounded so ridiculous and even worthy of a joke, like a scary story told around a campfire. No one else was even close to expressing the humor you felt, however, and even cracking a grin seemed just on the side of hysterical. 

"Why am I just now hearing of any of this? I mean, ghosts and stuff I understand because of Margie, but witches? _Vampires?_ You all sound like you're...like you're-" 

"Crazy? Insane? Trust me, we've heard it all before, but it hasn't stopped us from trying to help those people in the past, and it sure as hell won't stop us now." 

You looked to Dean with wide eyes, the severity of what was happening finally starting to sink in. This wasn't a silly pass to pull one over on you, this was real. 

"You guys are serious, then. But that means...Mom! Oh my God, there's something after her, isn't there?" 

Margie made to reach for your hand, but you pulled away from the gesture. You were beginning to panic; the last thing you needed was the anxiety of someone holding you down. 

"Now, sugarpie, you need to calm down-" 

"Are you kidding me right now? You guys just drop all this monster mumbo-jumbo on me and expect me to stay calm, knowing that something's out there, after my Mom?!" 

"Honey, please-" 

"You guys told me to trust you, so what the hell are we doing here when we could be getting her out of that-" 

"(Y/N), shut up for just two minutes and let us explain!" 

Your voice suddenly gave out at the demand from Dean, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your somewhat harsh breathing as you tried to get it under control. It was enough silence that you startled at Margie's landline sounding off in twittering notes, the southern woman excusing herself to answer the phone. 

"Look, we don't know if there's anything after May," Dean began, "but there's definitely something very strange about her position in all this." 

"What do you mean?" 

Sam stepped up then to explain. 

"We initially came here to ask her a few questions, mainly about Simon Atkins." 

"Simon Atkins?" 

"You might know him best as 'Greg' or 'Dad' or whatever you called him," Dean chimmed in, and for a moment, you were confused. 

"Greg? Wait...Dad? What do you need to know about him?" 

"We think he may know something about what's going on in the, uh, supernatural world. We had to see if May knew anything about what he's been up to or where he might be." 

"He's been dead since I was two," you said, though even you were beginning to doubt your words. It was the story your mother had told you since you were little, that he had passed away while out doing whatever his occupation required of him. 

"Oh, he's alive," Dean assured, his jawline tightening slightly. "The bastard's been wrecking havoc everywhere he's been. So much for being a senior Hunter." 

"May knows he's still alive," Sam gave as an explanation. "She never told you because she was trying to protect you." 

"From what?" 

Sam looked to Dean a moment, turning back to you once more with a defeated sigh. 

"We don't know. There's just...too much and not enough information. We can't figure out where he is, what he's trying to accomplish, or even how May is tied into any of this-" 

"Oh, darlin', it's the institute," Margie interrupted suddenly as she reached out the cordless phone for you to take, "They said it was urgent they speak with you." 

You took the phone and held it to your ear, eyeing the brothers a moment before answering. 

"Hello? Hello?" 

There was a moment of static silence that followed. It was enough for you to call out a greeting once more, though you stopped as you heard the voice over the line, almost childlike and chanting as it spoke. You listened closely to what was being said, and with each word spoken, your heart felt as if it were steadily speeding up in tempo, soon to burst from your chest with the level of sheer terror you were feeling at that moment. 

You dropped the phone and made a mad dash for the door, ignoring Dean's call of your name and the worried questions coming from Margie as you jumped into your car and sped off the same way you had come. 

Something was wrong, something was terribly, horribly wrong. Your mother was in danger, and it was that voice over the phone that made you finally realize that everything you had learned in the past few hours was the unbelievable truth of a world you suddenly knew little about. 

That voice...the things it had said.... 

_"Sweet Angel of Mary, she waits for you, waits for you, waits for you; Sweet Angel of Mary, she waits for you to set her damned soul free._

_"Oh how she wails and cries for you, cries for you, cries for you; Oh, how wails and cries for you, for Hell, her tomb shall be."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the kudos and lovely comments!
> 
> See ya around in the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Please, let me know what you think. Your feedback is much appreciated.
> 
> See ya around for the next chapter!


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